The Start of The War

Mikhailis stretched his sore limbs, feeling the dull ache left from yesterday's spar with the Goblin Apostle. The warmth of the grand feast still lingered in his mind—goblins laughing, dancing, eating, and for a moment, it almost felt like a real community. But as the embers of the night's fires cooled, the atmosphere changed. The mood was different now—not the relaxed one of a feast, but a charged tension hanging in the cold morning air.

He walked through the courtyard, watching goblins as they moved purposefully, gathering weapons and whispering among themselves. Gone were the relaxed, almost jubilant expressions from last night. Now, their faces showed focus, determination—and a little fear. Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a pang of unease as he saw it. The Goblin Apostle's announcement had changed everything. They were going to war—again. This time, the target was the humans.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh.